So after he's gone, Nicki calls Margene for help and asks her where she is. "Trapped in this stupid car like a dog," Margene complains into her cell phone. While frantically trying to get the four younger boys ready to go, Nicki tells Margene to get Bill on the phone, but Margene says she can't. And here's why it's a bad idea to strand Margene in a car indefinitely with nothing for her to do but think about stuff: "Barb's decided it's time to check out of the family, and she's taking the kids with her." Margene's about to go in and tell Barb off, then, and Nicki tells her to sit tight, again asking where she is. "Her mom's big-ass wedding," Margene bitches. "Bill stuck me in the car for over an hour!" Nicki tells Margene not to move, and bustles the kids out the door, snapping, "Get the little one!" Oh, come on, Nicki, they have names. It's Aaron, not "the little one." Or maybe Raymond. I get them confused sometimes.

Ben and Sarah sit at their table miserably as Sarah wonders why Sun Valley is so bad. I can't speak to Sun Valley specifically, but I can say that if my grandmother had remarried when I was sixteen and I was about to get dragged along on her honeymoon, I probably would have offered to go to a teen boot camp instead. Sarah tries to reminisce with Ben about when it was still just the four of them, and they went to a horse farm with Nancy. Ben pretends not to remember. Poorly.

Barb stands by the gift table, a soft smile on her face as she watches all of her horrible relatives dancing to Neil Diamond. Pretty racy tune for this crowd. Bill comes up and asks if she's telling people she's leaving. Barb says no. Bill asks if she wants him there. "Do you want to be here?" Barb non-answers. "I wouldn't have thrown your family away if it were my choice," Bill says, which actually gets through to Barb. They kiss. Well, there goes Nancy's cover story. Speaking of whom, Barb sees her mom standing by a pillar next to Cousin Howard, and goes over to join her when Howard leaves. A slow song starts up. Bill heads over to the table where Ben and Sarah are sitting, and asks his daughter to dance. Sarah smiles sweetly at the dorkiness of it all, and accepts his hand out onto the dance floor. He tells her that she can confide in him about anything. "I might actually surprise you." He's doing pretty well until he drops the platitude about how any guy who can't see how special she is doesn't deserve her. And in that way Sarah has of telling her parents incredibly heartbreaking things in such a sincere fashion that they can't possibly get mad at her, Sarah gently asks, "How can you expect me to take you seriously? Do you realize that you have no credibility? There's nothing that you can say to me about relationships, or life, that I will ever, ever listen to." Bill doesn't know what to say to that, so he falls back on, "Wave to your mother." Sarah obeys. Well, that's something, at least. Hopefully he can gradually work his way up to more ambitious commands, like "ignore me" and "say something painful."